


Little Grey Dress

by bigficenergy



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Clothed Sex, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Nonbinary David Rose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:34:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24237358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigficenergy/pseuds/bigficenergy
Summary: Patrick comes home from work on David's day off, and David's plans for their evening go just a bit off course.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 45
Kudos: 225





	Little Grey Dress

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an Instagram ad I got for [this dress](https://www.saksoff5th.com/derek-lam-10-crosby-cressida-buttoned-one-shoulder-sweatshirt-dress/product/0400012603662?R=192842205412&P_name=Derek+Lam+10+Crosby&Ntt=derek+lam+10+crosby&N=0). (If the link stops working, you should be able to find it if you image search "cressida sweatshirt dress".) I wanted to put David in it so very much, that writing the first part of this derailed my Reel SC fic progress a couple of days before that deadline. But since that's done now, so is this!
> 
> A note on nonbinary David: I am nonbinary, and I've always had a sort of passive headcanon that David is nonbinary. I'd started writing something that addresses that part of his identity more explicitly, but it kind of fell to the backburner. This, however, felt like it could be an extension of the original thing I was writing. I absolutely understand that clothes don't determine gender, but I also know that clothes can be really helpful for expressing and exploring gender. Basically I just want to make it clear that I'm not saying David _must_ be nonbinary to dress the way he does in either canon or this fic, and also that if there seems to be a bit of a clothing kink thing going on here, that doesn't always go hand-in-hand with how someone dresses to express their gender. Hope that covers any bases that needed covering!

“Honey, I’m home.”

David looks up from his book. The sofa gives him a perfect line of sight to the front door, so he usually lounges there on his days off a little while before Patrick is due home. He watches Patrick take off his jacket and hang it on the hooks he’d installed by the door, and place his keys in the little dish on the accent table, both of which had been picked by David.

“You’re gonna get sick of saying that eventually,” David says.

“Not as long as you like hearing it,” Patrick replies, because he knows David all too well.

Patrick heads over to the couch, leaning over the back to give David a kiss. He pulls back and looks his husband over. David basks in the attention.

“Well don’t you look cute,” Patrick says. “Is this new-new, or just new to me?”

It’s a question that Patrick asks a lot, due to David’s incredibly expansive wardrobe and slightly impulsive shopping tendencies. Today, he’s wearing a heather-grey sweatshirt dress. Patrick is getting better at deciphering when something is a tunic, a dress, or just a long-ish top, and the flouncy hem at the bottom defines this particular garment as a dress. Patrick also eyes the silver buttons that go all the way up the left arm, from the wrist to the collar. David has completed the look with a pair of black leggings, and his UGG boots. His ankles are propped up on the arm of the sofa, of course. He would never allow even his house shoes to touch the furniture.

“New-new,” David says. “This was in the package that came from Alexis yesterday. They sent her the wrong size, and she hates dealing with returns, so sometimes she just sends stuff to me or my mom, depending on the style and which way they got the size wrong.”

“Mmm,” Patrick hums, leaning down to kiss David again. “Yeah, I don’t think Alexis has the shoulders to fill this out the way you do.”

“Too bad for her.”

They learned the hard way that it’s not practical to climb over the back of the sofa in their eagerness to make out, so Patrick goes around to the front of it and climbs on top of David from there. David drops his book on the coffee table and places his hands on Patrick’s waist.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“How was the store today?”

“Good,” Patrick says, running his hands up David’s arms. “Some good sales. A couple more applicants for the sales associate position came in. Twyla threw in a slice of pie with my lunch. And there are some new samples from Brenda for you to check out tomorrow.”

“Sounds lovely.”

“Mhm. But not as lovely as…”

Patrick leans down to kiss him, bracing a hand on the armrest behind David’s head. When David wraps his arms around him and presses up into the kiss, Patrick brings his other hand up to cup David’s jaw. He tilts his head up a little and kisses his neck, making David groan happily. He hooks a finger in the collar of David’s sweatshirt dress to pull it aside and give himself more room, then realizes the buttons that run down the sleeves are snaps. He tugs one open sharply and David gasps, so he unsnaps another. He tilts his head and kisses David’s newly exposed collarbone, then licks a stripe back up his neck, making David shiver.

“Smart boy,” he breathes, fingers digging into Patrick’s waist.

“Or maybe you just make it very…” He undoes another snap. “...easy on me.”

He tugs the open sleeve down, exposing David’s whole shoulder so he can pepper kisses along it, like he’s trying to kiss each individual freckle. David sighs and lets his head loll to the side, kneading lazily at Patrick’s waist. Then, without warning, Patrick sinks his teeth into David’s neck, where it meets his shoulder. David hisses and groans.

“ _Fffuuuck…_ AH!” David yelps when Patrick sucks hard on the spot.

He doesn’t let up for several long seconds, until David is squirming and panting beneath him, his fingers flexing restlessly where he’s holding onto him. When Patrick pulls back, he traces his tongue over the bruise blooming on his skin, and David moan breathily.

“Thought you liked the dress,” David says, dazedly.

“I do,” Patrick says, nosing along David’s jaw.

“Then why’re you making it impossible for me to wear it out, hmm?”

“Oh I’m sorry,” Patrick says, bringing his hand up to rub his thumb over the hickey, making David close his eyes and bite his lip. “Is this inappropriate?”

“Mm, incredibly.”

“Well, let me try again.”

He stretches David’s collar down and starts to give him another hickey below his collarbone, just as ruthless as the first, but at least easier to hide later. David tips his head back against the armrest and whines, bucking his hips up in search of friction. With one last nip at David’s chest, Patrick sits up, fingers teasing the hem of the dress.

“What do we have here?”

He pushes the skirt up David’s thighs, lifting it up to reveal David’s cock, tenting his leggings obscenely.

“Is this for me?” Patrick asks, scooting down the sofa.

David just cants his hips up and makes an impatient little “hmph” sound.

“Should I take these off?” Patrick asks, plucking at the leggings. “Don’t wanna get blamed if they get dirty.”

“Too late,” David sighs.

“Oh?” Patrick rubs his thumb over the head of David’s clothed cock, finding the fabric already a little damp. The leggings also appear to be the only thing between Patrick’s fingers and David’s insistent erection. “Well, as long as they’re already ruined…”

Patrick ducks down and closes his lips around David’s cock. The fabric prevents him from taking him very deep, so he just lavishes attention on the head, sucking hard and rubbing his tongue over the tip, until the fabric is even damper.

They got a bigger sofa when they moved, but Patrick is still a bit cramped, so he sits up again, gets his hands under David’s knees, and moves his legs over his shoulders when he bends back down and gets back to work.

It shouldn’t be so hot, but David can’t stop making soft little noises and arching into the feeling of his husband’s mouth. He wants to get naked and feel all of Patrick, but he’s also enjoying the tease, being kept at the edge of not quite enough. Patrick’s hands slide up to grip his hips firmly, and the attempt at holding him still just makes David writhe more.

David runs his right hand up his chest and over to his bare left shoulder. He’s able to press the side of his hand into the hickey Patrick left below his collarbone, while also reaching the more conspicuous one with his fingertips. He presses and rubs, moaning as the sting of them flares under his touch. David’s head is tipped back and his eyes are closed, so he can only guess by the way Patrick suddenly groans around him that he had looked up and liked what he saw.

Patrick lets go of David’s hip with one hand so he can use his thumb and forefinger to stroke him while he sucks and licks, and gradually, not-quite-enough becomes…

“ _Ohhh_ , don’t stop,” David pleads between panting breaths. He throws an arm back to grip the armrest behind his head, rocking his hips. “Oh. Oh I’m gonna come, _oh fuck-_ ”

His cock starts to jerk and Patrick pulls back to watch, stroking him through the fabric as he comes and comes, until he’s seeping through the leggings.

When he’s spent, he blows out an astonished breath, relaxes into the couch, and looks down at Patrick.

“Did you just miss me extra today, or…”

Patrick just smiles, leaning up to kiss him, hands braced on the armrest and back of the couch to avoid getting David’s mess on him.

“You know,” Patrick says between kisses. “It’s amazing how often we still manage to not get fully undressed for this, even though we have this whole house to ourselves now.”

“I think,” David says, between more kisses. “That the point of having our own home is that we can do whatever we want in it.”

“Excellent point.”

Patrick sits up suddenly, leaving David to pout at the interrupted stream of kisses.

“Is that…” Patrick sniffs the air. “Are you cooking?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. I can certainly manage to cook for us… occasionally. Very occasionally.”

“You didn’t have to do that on your day off, though,” Patrick says, kissing his cheek.

“Mm, well, enjoy it while you can. It’s not gonna be a regular thing. I’m no housewife.”

Patrick laughs. “Of course not.”

“I did have a whole plan for tonight, though. You kinda messed it up.”

“Oh no, I’m so sorry,” Patrick says, not terribly apologetically. “What was your plan?”

“Well, dinner, and then basically what you just did to me.”

“You were gonna dress me up and give me an over-the-clothes blowjob?”

“Just the blowjob part, but let’s put a pin in the ‘dress-you-up’ idea,” David says with a mischievous grin.

“Well, look at it this way. Now neither of us have spoiled our appetite.”

That takes David a moment to process, and then he gives an emphatic, “ _Eww_ ,” and Patrick laughs.

David’s phone on the coffee table starts to beep, and Patrick reaches over to shut off the timer.

“I’ll get this while you go change,” he says. “What do I need to do?”

“It’s all done, just take it out for me,” David says, and Patrick gives him one last kiss before climbing off of him.

* * *

Patrick is getting out plates when David comes back downstairs.

“You _made_ chicken parmesan?” Patrick says, impressed. “You spoil m-”

He stops short when he turns to see David. He’d assumed he would change into a sweater and joggers for the evening, but the dress is still on. The snaps are done back up his arm, but one of the hickeys is still visible, the splotch of red catching Patrick’s eye. And instead of pants or leggings, David is now wearing a pair of thigh-high socks. They’re grey, a little darker than the dress, with two white stripes at the top of each. Between the hem of the dress and the tops of the socks, Patrick gets a nice little glimpse of David’s thighs. Later, Patrick will learn that Alexis had included the socks with the dress as a “styling suggestion”. David would go on to reluctantly admit it had been a good suggestion, and Patrick would spend some time trying to think of a way to thank Alexis without it being weird.

“Well it’s not like I made it from scratch,” David is saying of their meal, while Patrick is stuck on the _thigh-high socks_. “So I really just assembled chicken parmesan.”

“What?” Patrick says, then shakes his head. “I mean um… you shouldn’t sell yourself short. This looks… great.”

“Now are you talking about the chicken parm, or…”

“David, you… I… you um…”

“My goodness. I don’t know what you’re fussing about.” David’s voice is full of faux innocence, and then he’s lifting the hem of the dress. “I’m even wearing underwear now.”

He is wearing underwear. They’re grey boxer briefs, a similar shade to the socks. They cling _very_ enticingly to David’s body, and Patrick knows from experience that the material is luxuriously soft. His mouth waters, and it’s not for the food, so he makes the decision David is clearly trying to tempt him into.

He double-checks that the oven is off, gets some foil out to cover the baking dish containing their dinner, and heads for David.

“Oh, you don’t want the dinner I made for us now?” David asks.

“Not hungry,” Patrick says, smoothing his hands up David’s chest.

“You sure look hungry,” David breathes, hands sliding up Patrick’s back.

“I want dessert first.”

Patrick kisses him hard, backing David into the wall behind him and running his hands all over his body, unable to decide what he wants to touch most.

“Mmph, hang on!” David says, pulling his mouth away. “I am not dessert. I am the main course.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” Patrick leans up to nip at David’s earlobe and whispers, “You’re way too _filling_ to just be dessert.”

“Mkay, bed now, before you say something truly terrible that we can’t recover from,” David says, and Patrick manages to keep any further teasing to himself, at least until they get upstairs.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! ❤️
> 
> Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://fraudulentzodiac.tumblr.com/) if you'd like.
> 
> Oh, I forgot to mention that yes, the thigh-high socks were inspired by Alexis's outfit when she goes to the community college. One of my favorites of her looks. :)


End file.
